


whitepoint leaf

by shadowcat500



Series: Plaguetober 2020 [29]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Gen, Graphic Depictions of Illness, Plague Doctors, Plaguetober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:28:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27253429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowcat500/pseuds/shadowcat500
Summary: Jacob and Cassandra deal with what they believe to be a poisoning victim.
Series: Plaguetober 2020 [29]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1948417





	whitepoint leaf

**Author's Note:**

> 29/10 Poison

“So, how long have they been experiencing these symptoms?”

The patient is being shuffled onto the bed by Cassandra, eyes bloodshot and what skin that isn’t pockmarked by scratches is pale as fresh snow. Jacob is doing his level best to get a coherent response out of their family.

The youngest one, a small child in a blue dress with their hair cut to the quick, is the one to answer. “W-well we were in the woods looking for berries like we always do in the autumn, a-and then-”

A teenager breaks the child off, hands stained purple with what Jacob assumes to be berry juice. “They were by the blackberry bush, in the little clearing where the best berries are, and then they just,” He puts his palm straight up, then flicks it to horizontal with a little ‘whoof’. “Went down.”

“Had they eaten anything odd?”

“Not that I can remember. Rina was throwing up this morning because her datefriend accidentally brought her tainted chocolates, but Presley hadn’t had any. And Rina hadn’t collapsed.” The response comes from the third member of the group, a preteen in a pale green dress. 

“Hm. Have they done anything like this in the past? Is there a family history?”

“Well, mum says grandpa would pass out if he got too warm when he was younger. But Presley-”

The report is cut off by the abrupt sound of Presley puking directly onto the floor. Jacob turns around, catches the tail end of the act, and hurries over to Cassandra. “Did you see anything before this?”

“They went even paler and leaned over, but I couldn’t get a bucket in front of them in time.” She rifles through one of her pockets and presses her side to Jacob’s so the family can’t see what they’re doing. “Heads or tails for cleaning?” She whispers.

“Tails.”

Cassandra flips the coin with her thumb and catches it in her gloved palm, biting back a curse as the heads side meets her. “Alright, you handle the family. I’ll clean it up.”

Jacob turns around back to the family as Cassandra hurries to the kitchen. “Sorry, you were saying?”

“Presley hasn’t passed out before now. Grandpa started in his thirties: they’re barely twenty-two.”

“Do you think they may have eaten anything while berry-picking?”

“Well, on the way there they— sorry—” Cassandra pushes past, bucket of cleaning supplies in one hand and a bucket of water in the other as she hurries back to the bedside and begins scooping up the chunks. “—they grabbed a leaf and took a bite out of it to make Alex laugh.”

“How long ago was this?”

“Around two hours ago. Maybe one and a half.”

Enough time for poisoning to set in. “Do you remember what kind of leaf it was? Or at least what it looked like?”

“Yeah, it had these really pale edges but the rest of it was green as an oak leaf. Looked like any other leaf. Looked soft.”

Blackouts, bloodshot eyes, pale skin, vomiting. Ate a weird leaf earlier. “Looks like a classic case of whitepoint leaf poisoning. No need to worry, it should wear off in a couple-”

Jacob is cut off abruptly by a gasp from Cassandra as she stumbles back. He whips around, and sees her glove first: the first few fingers coated in blood. His gaze jerks forwards to the patient as he places a calming hand on her shoulder and draws her closer to him. “Sol’s mercy…”

The skin on the patient’s arm as come clean off, blood draining rapidly through the open wound. Jacob thinks he can see traces of yellow fat through the too-new skin, the clump of dead flesh still attached to where the arm is placed against the bed.

“Fuck me!” Jacob spins around to the frozen group of family members. “You, tallest one! Go to the room next door and grab the wooden bowl by the cauldron, get us a bowlful of the potion in the cauldron stat! Go!”

The man sprints off to the room as Jacob grabs a roll of bandages and a pair of scissors. Cassandra stays stock-still where she is. “Cass, you with me?”

She takes a step back, shakes her head a few times and clenches her fists. “Yes. Pass me the scissors.”

Together they pad the open wound to stem the blood, trim the rest of the loosen skin piece so the remaining skin doesn’t tear off from the weight alone, and secure the living tissue with a bandage. Just as they’re tying the bandage off, the man returns with a bowlful of the orange potion and Jacob beckons him over before taking the bowl. Cassandra shakes the patient’s shoulder. “Presley. We need you to drink this.” 

Presley, who had been staring at their peeling flesh in astonishment since the moment it came off doesn’t respond.

“Presley?”

The man grabs Presley’s shoulder and shakes it. “Pres!”

Presley blinks and turns to look at the doctors. 

“You have to drink this. It’ll keep you alive till a cure is found.”

Presley attempts to take the bowl, hands shaking, and Jacob holds it steady in his own hands as Presley guides it to their mouth. The potion goes down easily at least, even if nothing else about this plague does.

“Cass, can you keep an eye on them a moment?”

Cassandra nods, and Jacob nods back before turning to the patient’s family. “You three, go home. Send a cart for Presley: we’ll pay. Had a very generous donor last month. The patient will return home with a jug of delaying potion, make sure they drink half a cup of it each day. Tell me and Cassandra if any more cases pop up in their family or in anyone else they’ve come into contact with. Tie cloths over your face to avoid infecting anyone else, and come back when you run out of potion. Now head home: this room just became a hotspot for infection.”

The three scarper, and Jacob hears the door slam as they run home to their family. Poor kids.

“Cassandra?”

“I’m fine, Jacob. Presley will be fine, too. The cure can’t be that far off.”

It may be, Jacob thinks, staring at the patient that the delaying potion may not save. They may not drop into a coma within a week, but what can they do if something like that happens again, but instead of just one person it happens with the entire village?

**Author's Note:**

> Jokes on you IT WAS PLAGUE THE WHOLE TIME
> 
> first time i've used something in-universe as a title! branching out for once
> 
> The coin flip in the story was actually decided by an irl coin flip haha
> 
> Thinking of participating in NaNoWriMo this year. Probably heading back to my dystopian roots, which you can read some of in [ To be Grey](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1303436) on my series page. Or maybe I'll be working with the people mentioned in Fern's stories. We'll see.
> 
> Check out my [ tumblr](https://existentialcrisisetcetera.tumblr.com/tagged/zach%20writes)!
> 
> Comments and kudos appreciated!


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